Clemency
by EluredandElurin
Summary: An encounter between Aragorn and a Nazgûl during the Ranger's hunt for Gollum. I was rereading the Lord of the Rings for Tolkien reading day and wondered why Aragorn seemed to have prior experience with the Ringwraiths. This is what came of it. Also, this was my Teitho entry for May, which did not place.
He had stood beside his King as the days turned to years, faithful advisor. In a way, everything he had ever done was in honor of his King. His heart had ever been turned toward this man with eyes like the stars, though he was torn between the stars and the night.

The night offered such great power. It was intoxicating to see what he could do, to see the faint traces of pride on his King's face.

Then he began to see them, the phantoms of things that had never been beheld by mortals. He began to walk unseen among the people, listening for the whispers of treason, hearing it where there was none. He saw the stars in a man's eyes, every moment hating and coveting the light.

So this man began to wander alone, time stretching by, heedless of all that passed. From the shadows, a great voice called out to him. Power and surety were conveyed through the smooth words, but a menace was behind them.

"Your King is no more, your family gone. Come, then and follow me. You will do greater deeds than you have the will to conceive of. Song and legend with speak of you, never to be forgotten." As he followed, he knew not that the voice was of one who his people had fought for many years.

The barren wasteland shrieked as the East wind, in vigilant watch over her dark land, hastened elsewhere. Aragorn hunched his shoulders, weary from the long hunt and the darkness that had seeped into the very dust of the ground. So he came to a small stand of rock, unlit yet hiding no malice within.

There the Ranger set up camp, not sleeping long before staring out into the night. If one did not know anything of this place they could think it a haunting sort of beautiful.

Aragorn had often watched the people of his foster father in waking dream, and as lucidity slipped away under exhaustion, he understood it.

The sun began to peer over the horizon, waking the man who sat in a godforsaken land. Along with the cheerless landscape was a dark figure that approached. Seeing it felt so wrong, sending a tingle through his blood. What was this creature?

As it came closer, Aragorn could see a dark cloak and silvery armor, but no face was visible, no shadow was cast. It was very likely that this creature meant harm, and he would have to see if it posed real danger.

"Elendil," Aragorn whispered, not wishing to proclaim his identity to the whole place, and unsheathed his broken sword. The creature spoke with a strangely fey voice, almost hissing.

"A plant of the West, of Kings long gone," it said, reaching to point to Aragorn's pack. "The only wholesome thing in the foul land."

"You know aught of athelas here?" Aragorn asked wonderingly. He held out its dried leaves in his hand. "Many today think little of it."

"I was a man, long ago." The creature sighed. "Let us not think on lost things."

"Why do you not slay me here? You could have, and the master of this land would wish it."

"You spoke the name of Elendil, the King that ended my suffering for a time. I murdered young and old, rich and poor. Now I care only for myself, my shame. Perhaps death would have been kinder for the servant to a ring." The creature stiffened, tilted its head and took a long breath in. "One of my brethren comes, likely to punish. Be well, King."

"How do you know of me? Few know of my heritage."

"Your eyes are like the stars, all the firmament flowing down to touch one. The shadowed can see that much if they know how to look. The lieutenant will come soon, but you must not flee. You would be found. Return to that cave and lie still. Movement will mean instant death. Do not waste your life."

Aragorn obeyed, wrapping a mottled green cloak around himself and taking only the smallest of breaths. He watched in horror as a larger but similar creature- a wraith, most likely, perhaps even one of the Nine- came brandishing a flaming whip. It seemed to flinch away from the weapon it was holding, but the smaller did not, stiffly resolute, until it let out an ear splitting shriek and collapsed. The King side of Aragorn screamed of injustice, but the Ranger cautioned him to bide his time. Yet he would always remember this dark creature, consumed by shame.

"What is the fate of the Nazgûl, I wonder," Aragorn mused, sitting across from his old friend over a game of chess.

Gandalf raised a bushy eyebrow. "Would you care to know what happens to all our souls as well, and even the devices of the Valar?" And Aragorn was silent for a time, patiently waiting for his friend to answer and studying the board. "Perhaps they will be sent to the Void where time is everything and nothing, perhaps they will be sent to the deep halls of Mandos. Mayhap they will be returned to Middle-earth as fëa in a new body, or even as a babe. Some of the Elves have known of such things. It is doubtful, though, that the Valar will forgive so many years of evil deeds. Would you be able to do so?"

"I do not know, not unless I am faced with the choice. I would like to say one way or another, but actions are more true than words."

"Those that are raised by Elves are just as they. Never a straight answer." Wrinkles appeared at the corners of the Wizard's eyes. "Ah, and checkmate."

Eldarion looked up from stacking pristine blocks to watch his father as he filled out papers, scribbling madly.

"Adar, did you know your eyes look like the stars?"

"What was that, ion nín?"

"Your eyes look as if they were fashioned by Varda to be placed in the sky." The solemn little boy smiled at his father's faint surprise.

"Oh?" Aragorn stood to walk around his desk, surveying the landscape erected by his son.

Eldarion flashed a guileless smile. "Nana was reading me a tale of the Sickle, and the pictures reminded me of you." He was suddenly swept up by his father, looking up into the weathered face.

"You know I love you, little one?"

"Of course," Eldarion laughed, "you're my Ada!"

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